What if it was You?
by kakashifangrl1012
Summary: He said, "I think we're all going to need someone when we wake up in the morning." It dawned on them then how much they depended on each other and how lucky they really were. Smacked.


**Hello, all. I finally got my butt in gear to write another CSI:NY oneshot. I have been totally freaking out over the season finale, and I finally got around to writing something about it. In my version, the whole shooting thing at the end never happened, just so you know. I wouldn't want to write a whole alternate story to what's really going to happen in the show; that would just bug me. So you'll have to do with this instead. Smacked, as always plus a little Flack thrown in there. **

**Yep, enjoy!**

-o0o-

What if it was you?

-o0o-

As promised, she did her best not to make everyone cry, although Lindsay looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her courage was bolstered when Mac walked through the door; she couldn't help but look to him whenever she needed a confidence booster. Everyone listened to her speech with depressed expressions and the occasional sad smile as they remembered something about their fallen friend.

They shared memories of her, her fiery spirit, passion, love for her work and her friends. Don remained silent the entire time.

Eventually, they slowly dispersed. Danny and Lindsay left first, and Stella knew that they would go home and kiss their little girl good night, taking comfort in each other. She hoped that they knew how lucky they were. Sid and Hawkes left next, then Adam, who told her that he was going to call his family when he got home, just because. Finally, only she, Don, and Mac remained.

Flack wasn't doing so well. His determined mindset was gone now that they had caught Angell's killer. He was tired, and he stared into space, taking an occasional swig from his beer. She knew that look. She had worn it only a short time ago; she had seen it too many times before. Mac came to stand next to her.

"I'll take him home," he offered, knowing that she was worried.

She sighed, "No, I'm bringing him home with me. He's going to need someone when he wakes up tomorrow."

"Alright."

She flickered her gaze to him suddenly. He didn't look much better than Don.

"You're coming too," she decided.

After a moment he replied, "…Sure."

She was surprised at his lack of resistance, and at her confusion he added, "I don't want to argue with you right now. And I think we're all going to need someone when we wake up tomorrow."

She looked back to Don, "Yeah, maybe."

She crossed the short distance of the room to the bar, winding through empty tables and chairs. Flack didn't notice her approach or when she gently laid her hand on his shoulder. He continued to stare straight ahead, not moving, unaware of anyone else around him.

"Don," she said his name softly, "C'mon, it's time to go."

He nodded mutely, took one last drink of his beer, and stood from the bar. She kept her hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the door. Mac opened it for them and followed them out into the night air. He went to his car, silently agreeing with Stella to meet at her place. She and Don went to her car and pulled out into the street after their boss.

The ride home was quiet, the sounds of New York traffic only puncturing the blanket of silence. Stella used this time to let her mind wander and to try to collect her thoughts. Physically, she couldn't be more exhausted, but mentally, she was in overdrive. She couldn't believe the whole day had actually went by already; it was amazing how much could change in twenty-four hours. It wasn't like this was the first time it had happened, but at the end of days like these, she just wanted to go home and cry.

But she wouldn't. She had more important things to do. Like being there for the team for the next few days.

She glanced over at Flack every now and again, but his expression never changed. He remained silent, staring out the window, watching the vehicles speed past them. She didn't think she'd ever seen him this quiet.

They pulled up to her apartment and she parked the car. They walked wordlessly into the building where Mac was already waiting. They went down the hallway together and Stella unlocked her door when they came to it; she was surprised at her calmness; she didn't fumble with the keys at all.

They all walked through the door and down the little hallway that opened up into her living room. They stood there, not really knowing what to do with themselves. After the initial awkwardness, Stella took off her jacket and threw it on a nearby chair. She told Mac to make himself comfortable and to get anything from the kitchen if he wanted and led Don to her little guest bedroom.

They walked in and sat on the bed side by side. Now came the hard part. The talking.

"Are you okay?" she asked tentatively.

He sighed and slowly shook his head, "I…uh…I don't know what to do."

"Yeah," she agreed, "I know. That's why I'm here."

He stayed silent.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked.

Again he shook his head, "No."

She nodded, "Well, you need to sleep then. Thinking about it will only make you feel worse."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and got up to leave.

Just as she got to the door he said, "Stel," she turned back to look at him, standing in the doorway, "If I do want to talk…"

"Of course, I'll be here," she finished for him with what she hoped was a reassuring smile and flipped off the lights.

She closed the door quietly and returned to her living room. Seeing Mac lounging on the couch, she flopped down next to him.

"So?" he asked.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly, "He didn't want to talk. He's exhausted."

He nodded, "That's about the normal reaction. He will, eventually."

"Yeah."

"Don't you get tired of taking care of all of us all the time?" he questioned suddenly.

"Do you get tired of saving my butt all the time?"

"No."

"Well, there you go."

Mac smiled. Sarcasm intact.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"Freaked out, insecure, neurotic, emotional," he listed off.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Adam told me," he explained. She made an "oh" face.

"Alright, you got me," she conceded, "I'm just really… tired. But at the same time, I can't sleep."

"I know the feeling," he sympathized.

They sat in silence for awhile, lost in their own thoughts. Stella realized that if she was going to get any rest at all, she was going to have to talk to someone, and she couldn't think of a better person than the one sitting across from her on her couch.

"I—" both of them started, immediately cutting off for the other to finish.

It was scary how they were both on the same wave length sometimes.

"You go first," he said, "Shoot."

She winced.

"Ah… probably not the best word choice," he admitted.

She sighed for the thousandth time that day and plowed on, "I was just thinking…" she paused, wondering if they should really be having this discussion right now. She knew Mac wasn't into the whole 'share your feelings' thing, in fact, neither was she really. She had always been one to tough it out.

Then again, she really wanted to sleep.

"I don't trust people," she continued, "Never really have, probably never really will." She stared down at her carpet, anywhere but him. "Until two weeks ago, there were exactly two and a half people that I trusted completely." She was surprised when he didn't comment on the two and a half people part, so she kept going. "There was you, of course, the professor, and Angell. You because, well, I could sit here and list all the reasons for an hour and still have more." He smiled at this; it was a tired smile, but a genuine one none the less, and she was grateful for it. "The professor… he saved me… I think. I don't really know what to think of him anymore, but he did get me out of the system, and I'm grateful for that." Mac nodded, but didn't interrupt. "And Angell… You're gonna think this is stupid," she said.

"I'm sure I won't," he replied honestly, knowing that anything she said was never stupid.

She believed him and went on, "I was beginning to trust her because…" she smiled at the irony, "she lied. She was working with me on the Diakos case." If Mac was surprised, he didn't show it. "Even after I told her that you didn't know about me working the case, she kept with me. I think she didn't like that we were breaking the rules, your rules, but she didn't rat me out. So I started to trust her… Now two of those people are gone."

She felt tears sting her eyes and wiped them away furiously. She had made it through the whole day without crying, she wasn't about to start now. Mac pretended not to notice and waited for her to compose herself quietly.

"Alright, your turn," she said after a minute. He nodded.

"…When I came into the bar, I saw Don… staring at the counter, not talking. That look… I remembered that. I remember waiting to wake up, hoping that it was all a nightmare, thinking that it couldn't possibly be real," he smiled sadly, "but it was… I know he won't sleep tonight; he won't sleep for a week, if he really loved her."

They exchanged looks.

Stella nodded, "He did, a lot."

"I know."

Again, they drifted off into their respective thoughts.

The various events played out in her head from the past two weeks. Greece, the artifacts, the chases, the shots, the professor. The pain and confusion she had felt washed over her again for a second, then mercifully receded. She had done all of her crying back there; there was no reason to revisit it. She thought about Angell, and the irony that she was an actual angel now. At least she hoped that was how it worked. She would be comforted to know that maybe she was up there somewhere, watching over them, especially Flack.

She glanced at Mac.

It hit her then that he was the only one left that she trusted. Sure, there was the team and all, but no one else like him, no one that she implicitly counted on. She thought about how much she relied on him, how much she had come to depend on him. It was kind of scary.

What if he had been the one to get shot today?

Mac tried unsuccessfully not to sink into old memories. That day was still so vivid in his mind. He knew those memories would never fade, ever. Pain reeled through his senses, and he struggled to suppress it, but he did. He remembered how Stella had slowly brought him out of that cloud of pain that seemed to hover around him for days. He knew that Don would be okay, eventually. He had good friends to get him through it. When it had been him, Stella was his whole support system, there was no one else.

He wondered suddenly what he would have done if she hadn't been there to take care of him. He had depended so much on her; he still did. She kept him from going insane over the constant murders that they dealt with on a daily basis. It was good to know that she was there for him, but at the same time, it scared him.

What if she had been the one to get shot today?

"You know I need you, right?" she asked, bringing him out of his stupor.

His eyes locked onto hers.

"You know I need _you_, right?" he answered.

Normally, she hated it when he answered her question with another question, but she made an exception.

She crawled over to sit next to him and snuggled up to him. He put an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He listened to her soft breathing and sighed again, but this time it was a contented one.

Today reminded them of how lucky they were, and how it could all be taken away in an instant.

But for now, at least, luck was on their side.

-o0o-

**That's it. Please review and tell me what you think! **


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